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MOURNING 


FOR 


LINCOLN 


Q 


•^^ 


By 


FRANK W. Z. BARREl 1 


1909 


The John C. Winston Company 


PHILADELPHIA 






Copyright, 1909 

by 

F. W. Z. BARRETT 



LIBRARY of CONGRESS 

Two CoDles Received 

MAY n 100^ 

CopyriKnt sintr, 



CLASS y A xxc. 



i^C. No. 



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DeOicatcO 

to tbc best ot motbera 

bs bet son 



"And nuhen the sixth hour ivas come, there 
nvas darkness o'ver the luhole land until the ninth 
hour. " — Saint Mark. 



INTRODUCTION. 

The year Nineteen Hundred and 
Nine is memorial year for Abraham 
Lincoln, in which many phases of his- 
tory concerning him and his times will 
he considered, and the nation s sorrow 
at his untimely death may justly claim 
a place. We read his speeches with 
pleasure, laugh at his jokes, take pride 
in his statesmanship, glory in his man- 
hood, marvel at his patience, and are 
glad to honor his memory, while we 
almost forget the somber mountings 
from which the gems gleam. 

During the period when the Ameri- 
can public is, specifically, reviving the 
Lincoln memories, it is proper to 
attempt, in a slight degree at least, an 
appreciation of the colossal sorrow 
which culminated in the death of the 
Emancipator. No more touching trih- 

7 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

ute can be paid to the veterans and the 
loyal supporters of the Civil War than 
to carefully and seriously note the great 
grief which followed the assassination 
of their beloved leader. But the study 
of Lincoln and his movements among 
the multitudes will no more cease with 
the ending of the year 1909 than will 
the worship of Christ end with Christ- 
mas. We are learning, little by little, 
how much it cost America to make a 
Lincoln, and the price a President paid 
to maintain a republic. Lincoln and 
his labors glow in an ever-deepening 
light, for they were laved and cleansed 
in very many righteous tears. 
Philadelphia, Pa, 



Slmrnltt ^Frnwrtt? Pn^m 



O, why should the spirit of mortal be proud? 
Like a fast-flitting meteor, a fast-flying cloudi 
A flash of the lightning, a break of the wave, 
He passeth from life to his rest in the grave. 

The leaves of the oak and the willow shall 

fade, 
Be scattered around and together be laid ; 
And the young and the old, and the low and 

the high, 
Shall molder to dust and together shall lie. 

The infant a mother attended and loved, 
The mother that infant's affection who proved, 
The husband that mother and infant who 

blessed, 
£ach, all, are away to their dwellings of rest. 

The maid, on whose cheek, on whose brow, in 

whose eye, 
Shone beauty and pleasure — her triumphs 

are by ; 
And the memory of those who loved her and 

praised. 
Are alike from the minds of the living erased. 

9 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

The hand of the king that the scepter hath 

borne, 
The brow of the priest that the miter hath 

worn, 
The eye of the sage and the heart of the 

brave, 
Are hidden and lost in the depths of the 

grave. 

The peasant, whose lot was to sow and to reap, 
The herdsman, who climbed with his goats to 

the steep. 
The beggar, who wandered in search of his 

bread. 
Have faded aw^ay like the grass that w^e tread. 

The saint who enjoyed the communion of 
heaven, 

The sinner who dared to remain unforgiven, 
The wise and the foolish, the guilty and just. 
Have quietly mingled their bones in the dust. 

So the multitude goes, like the flower and 

the weed. 
That wither away to let others succeed ; 
So the multitude comes, even those we behold, 
To repeat every tale that hath often been told. 

For we are the same our fathers have been ; 
We see the same sights our fathers have seen — 
We drink the same stream and view the same 

sun — 
And run the same course that our fathers 

have run. 

10 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

The thoughts we are thinking our fathers 

would think ; 
From the death we are shrinking our fathers 

would shrink ; 
To the life we are clinging they also would 

cling, 
But it speeds from us all like a bird on the 

wing. 

They loved, but the story we cannot unfold ; 
They scorned, but the heart of the haughty is 

cold ; 
They grieved, but no wail from their slumber 

will come ; 
They joyed, but the tongue of their gladness 

is dumb. 

They died ! aye, they died ; we things that are 
now, 

That walk on the turf that lies over their brow, 

And make in their dwellings a transient 
abode, 

Meet the things that they met on their pil- 
grimage road. 

Yea I hope and despondency, pleasure and 

pain. 
We mingle together in sunshine and rain ; 
And the smile and the tear, the song and the 

dirge, 
Still follow each other, like surge upon surge. 
II 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

'Tis the wink of an eye, 'tia the draught of a 

breath, 
From the blossom of health to the paleness of 

death ; 
From the gilded saloon to the bier and the 

shroud ; 
O, why should the spirit of mortal be proud ? 

William Knox. 



J^"^: 






12 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN. 

Longfellow in 1850 wrote "The 
Building of the Ship." In the original 
di'aft of the writing he left the ship 
^Tecked upon the shoals, but when the 
printed proof was put into his hands 
he could not bear to read of his beauti- 
ful ship shattered by wind and rock; 
so, although the poem was. already in 
press, he destroyed tha'l fatal ending 
and -v^Tote the a-Dostrophe with which 
we are all familial: . 

Thou, too, sail on, O^Sfeip of State! 

Sail o^j|D tJnlQli,:;stl'ong and great! 

At times* during his administration, 
jMr. Lincoln was greatly depressed ; the 
smile faded from his lip, and the sparkle 
died out of his eye. During one of 
those periods he read the speech of a 
Union orator in which the latter quoted 
the apostrophe from "The Building of 

13 



MOURNING FOE LINCOLN 

the Ship." The speech was in the 
morning papers, and as JNIr. Noah 
Brooks called on the President that day- 
he found him reading the speech. 
Lincoln nodded to his caller and said: 
"Before business, let me read you this," 
and with deep feeling he read the mem- 
orable passage. Having finished, he 
leaned back in his chair and asked who 
wrote the poem, if there were more 
stanzas of it, and where it could be 
found. Mr. Brooks told him the 
author's name, and offered to recite the 
poem to him. Lincoln requested him 
to do so, and listened with great earn- 
estness to his visitor. The poem seemed 
to dispel the President's gloom, for he 
declared that he believed in the ship. 

On Friday, April 14, 1865, the 
members of the Cabinet and General 
Grant were summoned to an official 
meeting at 11 o'clock. The President 

14 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

asked Grant if he had heard anything 
from Sherman; to which Grant repHed 
that he had not, but he was hourly 
expecting dispatches announcing Johns- 
ton's surrender. The President replied 
to this opinion with firmness: "Well, 
you will hear very soon now, and the 
news will be important." General 
Grant, out of curiosity, inquired: "Why 
do you think so?" "Because," said 
Lincoln, "I had a dream last night, 
and ever since the M^ar began I have 
invariably had the same dream before 
any very important military event." 
He said further that the dream had 
come to him just before the battles of 
Bull Run, Antietam, Gettysburg and 
other great conflicts. "The dream," 
continued he, "is that I saw a ship 
sailing very rapidly ; and I am sure that 
it portends some important event." 

The dream ship of the President was 
one with the poet's Ship of State. 

IS 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

President Lincoln was at City Point, 
Virginia, when Robert E. Lee surren- 
dered his army, on Palm Sunday, April 
9th, to General Grant. Soon after the 
glad news was heard, he went on board 
the "River Queen" returning to Wash- 
ington. The boat was thoroughly 
searched to see that no enemies who 
might do him an injury were on board. 
A guard went with him — Lieutenant 
Commander John Barnes, and two 
ensigns, who were never for a moment, 
not even at meal time, to leave the Presi- 
dent alone. No precaution which 
might insure his safety was omitted. 

Admiral Porter had charge of the 
arrangements for the safe return of the 
President to Washington. But after 
the President had started homeward the 
Admiral became exceedingly anxious 
concerning the Chief Executive, and, 
although the special escort returned 
reporting their charge safe in the White 
i6 



MOURNING FOa LINCOLN 

House, he at once boarded the steamer 
"Tristram Shandy," ordered the cap- 
tain to put on full head of steam and 
land him in Baltimore, by which route 
he could soonest reach Washington. 
He reached the wharf at Baltimore in 
the early morning and sent a mate to 
get a carriage to the depot. In twenty 
minutes the mate returned with ghastly 
face and trembling limbs. He tottered 
into the cabin but could not speak, and 
fell upon the sofa shaking like an 
aspen-leaf. 

"What is the matter with you?" 
demanded Admiral Porter. "Be a 
man and tell me; is the President dead?" 

At first the man could not answer; 
at last he stammered: "Assassinated!" 

The Admiral was too late, but he con- 
tinued his journey to Washington. 
When he looked once more at the Presi- 
dent, whose eyes would never open on 
him again, turning to a friend, he said; 
17 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

"There lies the best man I ever knew, 
or expect to know; he was just to all 
men, and his heart was full to overflow- 
ing with kindness towards those who 
accomphshed his death." 

A few days before Lee's surrender, 
the President had instructed Sherman 
to offer the same favorable terms of 
peace to General Johnston that were 
made to Lee. General Sherman, in 
reply, declared that he was in a condi- 
tion to compel Johnston to accept what- 
ever terms he might offer. Lincoln 
replied: "Offer him the same terms that 
were given to Lee, and if not accepted, 
then drive him to it; only don't let us 
have any more bloodshed if it can be 
avoided." 

On the morning of April 17th, Gen- 
eral Sherman left camp on his way to 
confer with General Johnston concern- 
ing terms of capitulation. As he was 
i8 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

boarding the train, a telegraph operator 
hurriedly requested him to delay a few 
minutes until he should receive an 
important message just coming over 
the wire from Washington. This was 
Stanton's dispatch announcing the 
assassination of the President. Sher- 
man read the message, folded it as if 
nothing unusual had happened, and 
quietly put it into his pocket. 

"Have you told anj^one of the con- 
tents of this message?" he asked. 

"Xo," was the reply. 

"Then," commanded Sherman, 
"speak of it to no one till I return." 
And the train sped away. 

The two generals. Federal and Con- 
federate, with their respective staffs, 
came together that afternoon at the 
home of Mrs. Bennett, on the Raleigh 
Road, near Raleigh. When they met. 
General Sherman at once asked John- 
ston whether he had heard of Lincoln's 

19 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

assassination. General Johnston replied 
that he had not. Sherman handed him 
the message. As he read the sad 
account, the Confederate was greatly 
moved, and after a moment's thought, 
he said solemnly: "The death of Lin- 
coln, in my opinion, is the greatest 
calamity that can happen to the South." 
During the war, those in rehellion 
called Lincoln robber, murderer, tyrant, 
and wished him all manner of evil; but 
by the time the struggle was drawing 
toward its close, they had begun to 
understand that he was their earnest 
friend and that he would grant them 
as favorable terms as he could. There 
was no man of the nation who longed 
more earnestly for a reconciliation with 
the people in secession than the Presi- 
dent ; and there was now no one remain- 
ing who had so earned and won their 
confidence. Now that they were con- 
quered, those of them who knew him 

20 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

best, loved him as wayward and repent- 
ant children. So the South, as well as 
the North, mourned at the death of 
their truest friend. 

News of the assassination reached 
New York. The emporium stirs in 
an instant. Flags in the harbor drop 
to half-mast. The city rocks in a ter- 
rible rage. It seethes and boils; it 
hisses and curses. It calls down impre- 
cations upon the murderers. It impli- 
cates all the Confederates in the horrid 
crime, and calls with voice five hundred 
thousand strong: "No more compro- 
mise; no more dalljdng; no more for- 
giving; we take no prisoners; we give 
no quarter to the Rebel leaders; but 
one thing now — a dog's death by the 
gallows-tree ! Henceforth between them 
and us, war to the knife, and the knife 
to the hilt 1" 

21 



MOURNING FOE LINCOLN 

An officer in the Army of the Poto- 
mac received a telegram. It announced 
the murder of the President. He called 
a friend and said; "Read that!" The 
young man gasped ; he re-read ; his face 
grew livid; he rushed from the tent 
calling hoarsely: "Boys, Lincoln's dead; 
murdered by an assassin ; and the assas- 
sin has escaped I" 

The soldiers began to assemble. At 
first they were stunned and they 
refused to believe. But the message 
soon settled the terrible fact. What a 
scene followed, as they shout from tent 
to tent and regiment to regunent: 
"Boys, Father Abraham is killed! Boys, 
Lincoln is assassinated!" Then rose 
one mighty sweeping, swelling curse. 
They called for a judgment-day in 
which all Rebels were to stand before a 
fiery tribunal. "Oh, God, Thou Mighty 
One, as they have dealt with us, help 
us to deal with them and theirs!" The 

22 



MOURNING FOE LINCOLN 

cry was carried to every part of the 
army, and wherever it went anger and 
choler followed in its w^ake. "Now, 
now vre'-re in for war that w^ill wipe 
the Rebs, root and branch, from off the 
earth! General Grant, turn us loose, 
and we'll go down into the South and 
exterminate the vile horde! Give back 
to Lee his men and their arms; give 

back to the Rebels their forts and 

their rivers, their ships and their pris- 
oners ; aye, even the States we have torn 
from them; give them their horses and 
their guns, and their niggers to dig 
their trenches; give them a treaty with 
England and France; give them every- 
thing they possessed or could possess; 
only turn us loose on them! General 
Grant, turn us loose upon them! Let 
us go once more into the South, and 
we will leave standing not a tree nor an 
orchard, nor a cotton-field; not a city 
nor a town nor a village ; aye, w^e'U drive 

23 



MOUENING FOE LINCOLN 

the whole abominable race of murderers 
into the sea I No, that will be too good 
for them! We'll drive them into hell, 
where they belong, and then we'll 
furnish volunteers to keep the fires 
burning everlastingly! Turn us loose 
and we'll avenge the death of our good 
Father Abraham!" 

A Confederate had been with Robert 
E. Lee at Harper's Ferry when John 
Brown was seized. Later he became 
colonel of the First Virginia Regulars, 
and was captured, together with several 
hundred other Confederates, a few days 
before Lee surrendered. With some 
other officers he was confined in the old 
Capitol Prison in Washington. In the 
city he had influential friends who were 
completing arrangements for his libera- 
tion. A few hours before the assassin- 
ation they had visited him in prison 
and said: "Cheer up, old fellow, you'll 
24 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

soon be out; the papers are ready and 
they will probably be signed to-mor- 
row." They left the colonel in a 
pleasant frame of mind. That night, 
as he and some of his companions were 
talking of their speedy release, they 
heard ominous sounds outside the prison 
walls. First there were a few voices 
speaking in undertones; then there 
were many voices swearing furi- 
ously: "Let's bring out the G 

d d Rebels and hang every one of 

them I" The prisoners did not know 
what had caused the uproar, but they 
understood by the tumult that some- 
thing fearful had happened. They 
could hear sounds of the guards being 
doubled; the mutterings of growing 
anger; likewise voices urging an onset 
upon the prison. The click of guns 
and the tread of guards became so con- 
stant that they watched to see the doors 
broken in, and they expected that at 

25 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

any moment they might be dragged 
outside the prison and hanged by the 
infuriated mob. Still they did not 
know what had happened. The impre- 
cations and steady tread of the guards 
continued all night. In the morning 
the prison doors w^ere flung open and 
the prisoners beheld a startling sight. 
The streets were filled from curb to 
curb with citizens and soldiers, and the 
soldiers were keeping at bay a fierce 
crowd, whose faces were rigid in deter- 
mination and anger. Between rows of 
iron-visaged men whose bayonets were 
fixed for instant service, the prisoners 
were marched at quick-step to the rail- 
road station, where they were placed in 
box cars, the doors slammed shut, and 
the train started — for what place they 
knew not. Three days without light 
they traveled. When at last the doors 
were opened they found themselves at 
Sandusky, on Lake Erie, and on their 
26 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

way to Johnson's Island, a Union Civil 
War prison from which no one was ever 
able to make his escape. The colonel 
leaves it on record that he was never 
so glad for any other thing in all his 
life as he was to get out of Washington 
when Lincoln was assassinated. 

Imprecations flew over the country 
hke whiffs from demons' nostrils. The 
fierceness of the soldiers' '^^Tath was 
beyond the power of language to 
express. Had the Federal Army then 
been turned loose against the foe, in its 
violent state of rage, it would literally 
have exterminated the people of the 
South. Doubtless that danger was 
in Johnston's mind when he said: 
"Lincoln's death is the greatest calam- 
ity which can happen to the South." 
Had Lee's surrender a short time 
before not placed him and his army 
under the protection of the North, they 
might have become the mop with which 
27 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

to wipe out the infamous stain of the 
assassin's deed. 

But wiser judgment prevailed. The 
mingled anger and sorrow of the nation 
settled into a sullen roar of pain; pain 
all the more touching because with the 
anger and sorrow were mingled for- 
giving prayers. It soon became known 
that there was no concerted operation on 
the part of the Confederacy to murder 
the President. The mass of people in 
the South and soldiers in the Confed- 
erate army knew nothing of the plot. 
A few desperate characters had planned 
and executed the fiendish scheme which 
resulted in the death of the President 
and the serious wounding of Mr. 
Seward, the Secretary of State. 

It will be remembered that on April 

14, 1861, Major Robert Anderson, of 

the United States Army, after firing 

a salute to the Union flag, surrendered 

28 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

Fort Sumter to the Confederates. On 
the 14th day of April, 1865, exactly 
four years after his capitulation, 
Brigadier-General Robert Anderson is 
again at Charleston Harbor. With him 
are such orators as Henry Ward 
Beecher, Doctor Storrs, together with 
other great and brave men of the land, 
all assembled to hoist the identical flag 
which jNIajor Anderson had hauled 
down four years before. Promptly at 
noon, as the people shout and the guns 
boom from half a dozen batteries, and 
the bands play national airs. General 
Anderson with his own hand pulls the 
flag into place. On the evening of the 
same day, a banquet is given at the 
Charleston Hotel; six or more promi- 
nent speakers eulogize Mr. Lincoln, 
praising him in such words as no ruler 
of a republic had ever before been 
praised. Finally, at the close of Gen- 
eral Anderson's toast, he lifts his glass 
29 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

with the words: "I beg you now that 
you will join me in drinking the health 
of another man — one whom we all love 
to honor — the man who, when elected 
President of the United States, was 
compelled to reach the seat of govern- 
ment without an escort ; but a man who 
now could travel all over the country 
with millions of hands and hearts to 
sustain him, I give you the good, the 
great, the honest man, Abraham Lin- 
coln." 

On that very hour the President was 
assassinated. 

On Monday, April 10th, the Rev. 
Thomas Bowman, subsequently a 
bishop in the IMethodist Episcopal 
Church, but at the time Chaplain of 
the Senate, visited Lincoln to warn 
him of danger. He told the President 
how a few days before, as he was about 
to open a session of the Senate with 
30 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

prayer, a man entered the hall, and hy 
his strange appearance had so impressed 
Dr. Bowman that he could not for 
several minutes proceed with the sacred 
services. Suhsequently he had seen this 
remarkable visitor prowling about the 
White House, and he was convinced by 
the man's actions that he was bent on 
some crime. ]Mr Lincoln, however, 
could not believe that anyone would 
injure him and, strange to relate, felt 
especially safe in the presence of the 
man whom the chaplain feared. Later 
events proved that the fear of Dr. Bow- 
man was well founded. 

On the evening of April 14th, Mr. 
Lincoln, accompanied by his wife and 
two young friends. Major Rathburn 
and jMiss Harris, attended, by special 
invitation of its manager. Ford's Thea- 
ter. The morning papers had announced 
that he would be present, and the house 
was packed by admirers, who cheered 

31 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

loudly as he entered. Passing the door, 
he spoke kindly to an actor, J. Wilkes 
Booth, for whom he entertained a 
favorable regard. It was Booth whom 
Dr. Bowman feared. Booth belonged 
to a secret order which had as its object 
the assassination of the Chief Execu- 
tive, Mr. Seward, Vice-president John- 
son, Secretary Stanton, General Grant 
and Chief-Justice Chase. At the 
theater where he went to slioot the 
President, he was so kindly greeted by 
Mr. Lincoln that he was unnerved and 
his courage failed. So seriously was he 
affected that he v/as unable to perpe- 
trate the deed until he had rushed from 
the theater to a saloon near at hand, 
where he called in excited tones: 
"Brandy! brandy! brandy!" Hastily 
drinking two glasses of the stimulant, 
he returned directly to the theater. 
Entering the President's private box, 
he stood behind Lincoln, took deliberate 

Z2 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

aim, and sent a bullet through his vic- 
tim's brain. The President's head 
dropped upon his chest, he bent slightly 
forward, his body became motionless, 
he uttered no word nor sound. Booth 
had secured his man and played his part 
in the terrible tragedj^ 

Abbott, the historian, says: "The 
President was taken into a house near 
by and placed upon a bed. What a 
scene was here ! The chief of a mighty 
nation lay there senseless, drenched in 
blood, his brains oozing from the 
wound. Sumner and Farwell and Col- 
fax and- Stanton and many others were 
there, pallid with grief and consterna- 
tion. The surgeon, General Barnes, 
solemnly examined the wound. There 
w^as silence as of the grave. The life 
or death of a nation seemed dependent 
on the result. General Barnes looked 
up sadly and said: "The wound is 
mortal." "Oh, no! General, no! no!" 

33 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

cried Secretary Stanton, and, sinking 
into a chair, he covered his face with 
his hands and wept hke a child. Senator 
Sumner tenderly holds the hand of the 
unconscious martyr. Though all unused 
to weep, he sobs as though his great 
heart would break. In his anguish his 
head falls upon the blood-stained pil- 
low, his black locks blend with those 
of the dying victim, which toil and care 
have rendered gray, and which blood 
has crimsoned. 

The following morning Secretary 
Stanton said, as he caressed and lifted 
the hand of the expired President: 
"Ah, dear friend, there is none now to 
do me justice; none to tell the world of 
the anxious hours we have spent 
together." 

And now the nation rapidly becomes 
an immense death chamber in which the 
citizens as children learn that they have 

34 



(***»-■■ 



:mouiining for Lincoln 

lost their well-beloved father. The 
depressed spirit which takes possession 
of those gathered about the body 
of Abraham Lincoln escapes through 
the door and spreads as a pall over the 
fair fields of a continent, and like a 
dread monster whom all fear, strikes 
terror and despair to the hearts of those 
who hear of the tragedj''. 

"Let us visit our pastor to-day," says 
a wife to her husband, and together 
they drive across the country. On their 
wsty they hear that JMr. Lincoln is dead. 
They continue their journey until they 
come to the minister's house ; but he can 
not see them, for the terrible nev/s has 
smitten him, and he is unable to arise 
from his bed. 

A traveler was in the eastern part of 
Iowa, and as his train was starting, a 
friend jumped to the platform and 
called to him: "News has just come 
from Washington that Lincoln is assas- 

35 



MOURNING FOE LINCOLN 

sinated." The train was moving so 
rapidly that no more could be said, and 
the informant leaped to the ground. 
On the train went, passing station after 
station, but no word was heard from the 
Capital. Agents were asked as to the 
truth or falsity of the report, but none 
of them knew. The traveler, after 
hours of anxiety, entered a stage coach 
and rode into the night. At last he 
came to a place called Newton, where 
fresh horses were hitched to the coach. 
Here was a small telegraph station, and 
around it were gathered the men of the 
place. They listened breathlessly as 
the operator slowly read from the line 
the account of the President's death. 
The night and the loneliness of the 
place were symbols of the gathering 
gloom. 

An Ohio regiment lay encamped on 
the Tombigbee River. They were a 
jolly set of boys, singing jolly songs. 
36 



.?mi»: 



:mourxixg for Lincoln 

Suddenly all mirth ceased, from one to 
the other went the rumor: "Lmcoln is 
assassinated." Drum ceased its beat- 
ing and fife its shrill note. Swift- 
mounted horsemen halted in their task 
of grooming or pulled the bit before 
setting off on another task. ]Men gath- 
ered in knots and whispered of the 
awful deed. Veterans, those who had 
marched, and fought, and slept, and 
ate with messmate for years, and had 
at last buried that military companion 
without shedding a tear, now sobbed 
like children. The funeral dirge rolls 
over the camp, and the saddest march 
of four long years has begun. An 
army is preparing to read its funeral 
ritual over its Chief Commander. 

Large numbers of the Fourth Corps 
of the Army of the Cumberland were 
stationed in Eastern Tennessee, thirty 
miles out from Greenville, North Caro- 
lina, where was located the nearest tele- 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

graph station. They were to cut off 
the retreat of Lee should he escape 
with his army from Richmond. Their 
camp was on an elevation, and the road 
leading to it was for four miles in plain 
view. On the afternoon of the 15th of 
April, a courier riding a fleet-footed 
horse entered the four-mile stretch. He 
halted an instant at each sentry, and 
then raced along toward the camp. The 
attention of the officers was called to 
the peculiar behavior of the videttes, 
as one after the other listened to the 
horseman and allowed him to pass. The 
soldiers were accustomed to couriers, 
but never before had they seen such 
actions on the part of their videttes. 
The camp watched the rapidly 
approaching herald with wonder; but 
no one even guessed the contents of his 
message. The worse they dreamed of 
was another upheaval of the foe, for 
which they were prepared. But the 
38 



MOURNING i^Oii LINCOLN 

queer actions of the sentinels, what 
could they mean ? With foaming horse 
the messenger arrives in their midst and 
announces: "Lincoln is dead; killed by 
an assassin; Booth has escaped!" 

Strong men turned towards one 
another and without a word fell into 
each others arms and moaned outright. 
The evening was usually spent in song 
and story-telling and jollity. Now 
there was no song, no shout, no joy; 
nothing but fearful forebodings and 
prophecies as to the consequences of the 
crime. 

The Soldiers' Home, in Chicago, was 
arranging for a fair, and for the first 
time since ]Mr. Lincoln left for Wash- 
ington, his home State was to welcome 
him once more. The home was new — 
erected for the soldiers of the war now 
drawing to a close, and a great throng 
expected to attend the fair; multitudes 
of friends hoped to grasp the Presi- 

39 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

dent's hand and say: "God bless you! 
We have prayed for you, we are proud 
of you, welcome home!" And in the 
busy preparations for breaking the 
ground where the fair was to be held 
was heard the hum of happy voices. 
Processions were ready for a splendid 
pageant — when lo ! at the very time the 
joyous people were beginning their 
task of love, they read: "Lincoln assas- 
sinated last night ; died this morning at 
7.22 o'clock." Their songs of rejoicing 
turned into a mourning dirge; unut- 
terable woe smote the people, and none 
escaped the funeral wail. The proces- 
sion was abandoned, and the day prom- 
ising sunshine and joys became one of 
clouds and gloom. Loyal women who 
were to have worn adornments of roses, 
draped themselves with crepe, and 
emblems of mourning covered their 
heads. 

40 



:mourning for Lincoln 

The President breathed his last at 
twenty-two minutes past seven, on 
Saturday rnorning, April the 15th. 
During the night the country was noti- 
fied of the assassination and that the 
worst was to be expected. As the mes- 
sage of the nation's loss flashed through 
the land, a mightj^ and united move- 
ment takes place. People everjnvhere 
are astir. Some one in the rural dis- 
trict hears of the calamity and starts on 
foot or on horseback to the house of his 
next neighbor; arriving, he begins: 
"Have you heard?" — and he can go 
no farther; he breaks down and sobs. 
Again he begins: "Have you heard of 
the assassination? — oh!" And this man 
of sturdy build, whom no one has ever 
seen shed a tear, leans, as one mortally 
w^ounded, against a fence, or drops to 
a sitting posture on the ground, while 
great paroxysms shake his body and 
he mourns piteously. At last he calms 

41 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

himself, and between sobs, says: "Presi- 
dent Lincoln is dead." The neighbor, 
all unprepared, staggers forward and 
gasps: "What? You don't mean that 
Father Abraham is dead? When, and 
where, and how?" These neighbors sit 
together as the first relates the appalling 
story; then messenger number two 
starts for his next neighbor, carrying 
with him the almost unbearable story. 
The news spreads over the country dis- 
tricts almost as rapidly as it does 
through the cities ; and knots of pastoral 
people gather and weep and sigh; they 
wring their hands and are comfortless. 
They moan: "Our President is deadl 
Why did they do it! The government 
cannot stand; it is going down. Good, 
kind, forgiving Father Abraham is 
killed!" And the moaning goes on. 

In the cities another movement takes 
place. First, there is great astonish- 
ment, followed by intense anger, which 
42 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

in turn gives place to nameless gloom. 
Flags and banners are everywhere fly- 
ing in honor of the surrender of Lee, 
and in token of the rapidly-coming 
peace. Now a man sees a flag flying, 
and without a word runs to the staff 
and begins to lower the colors. A 
woman throws a light shawl over her 
head and starts for the store where she 
buys black; black crape, black ribbon, 
black cloth; and if she is poor and has 
but few pennies, or if she comes late, 
she has to be content with black paper; 
for in many of the cities black drapings 
from the looms were exhausted before 
10 o'clock. All this blackness is for 
decorative purposes ; as though the dead 
could see! Thimble and needle and 
fingers work rapidly; and in an hour 
from the dipping of the flag, it is again 
hauled slowly into place at half-mast, 
and bordered on one or two or three 
or four sides by a wide band of crape. 

43 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

And this work in blackness continued 
throughout that Saturday. Had angels 
from the black pit appeared they could 
have added nothing to the signs of 
despondency and despair. 

The next day was the Sabbath, in 
which multitudes were wont to meet in 
commemoration of the resurrection of 
their Lord. It was Easter Sunday, but 
preachers, for once, almost forgot the 
resurrection and its precious promises. 
For four years the land had seen death, 
but no resurrection. A coming back to 
life seemed unthinkable. Homes emp- 
tied of fathers and sons and brothers 
proved that all was death, death, death. 
Throughout the country on the follow- 
ing Wednesday funeral services were 
appointed for the departed President; 
but neither preachers nor people could 
wait; and this Resurrection Sabbath 
was a day of funerals continent-wide. 
The minds of the people were saturated 

44 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

with the thought of death in the prison, 
death in the hospital, death on the 
skirmish-hne, death on the battle-field, 
death in the camp and, most horrible of 
all, death by the hand of the assassin I 

Immediately after the President 
ceased to breathe, Secretary Stanton 
called a Cabinet meeting in the room 
where the body lay. No minutes of the 
meeting were taken, and nothing is 
known of its results; its lips are like 
those of the dead, silent forever. The 
days that followed were those of silence 
almost supreme. 

At half past nine the body was 
removed to the White Plouse, where it 
was embalmed. The hearse which car- 
ried the dead was wrapped in the folds 
of an immense flag, and surrounded by 
military guards and officers on foot. 
Great crowds followed it to the White 
House, but they were excluded by mili- 
45 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

tary orders. Here the martyr was pre- 
pared for public funeral. At first it 
was planned to have services in Wash- 
ington and then send the beloved dead 
direct to his home State for burial. 
But the nation would not have it so. 
The people of many States demanded, 
with myriad voices, that his body be sent 
to them, that they might take one last 
look into his homely, honest face. The 
nation decreed so to honor their dead 
father, and to meet their desire a 
funeral train of eight coaches was 
arranged to travel to Baltimore, to 
Harrisburg, to Philadelphia, to New 
York City, to Albany, to Buffalo, to 
Cleveland, to Columbus, to Indian- 
apolis, to Chicago, to Springfield, Illi- 
nois, where in Oak Ridge Cemetery the 
great President was to be entombed. 

At the White House, Lincoln's body, 
dressed in the suit he vv^ore at his second 

46 



'SB^ = 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

inauguration, was first laid out in the 
guest room; but on Tuesday it was 
placed in the East Room that the public 
might view it for the last time. Here, on 
Wednesday, the funeral services were 
held, beginning at half past eleven. 
There were present the members of the 
Cabinet; the assistant secretaries of the 
Deputies; the State Senators; the mem- 
bers of the Diplomatic Corps, in full 
court suits; the wives of the Cabinet 
Ministers; the Judges of the Supreme 
Court; the new President, ]Mr. John- 
son; State Representatives; delegates 
from the clergy, from municipalities, 
from chambers of commerce, from com- 
mon councils, from union leagues, and 
from other organizations belonging to 
almost every loyal State in the Union. 
It was two o'clock when the service 
closed and the funeral cortege moved 
slowly along Pennsylvania Avenue to 
the Capitol Building. At the head of 

47 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

the procession, as guard of honor, 
walked a sj^lendidly equipped company 
of negro soldiers, recently emancipated 
by the proclamation of Mr. Lincoln. 
All the civil dignitaries rode in car- 
riages. There were the hoof-beats of 
cavalry and the stately tramp of 
infantry. The rattle of artillery 
sounded above the sad music of the mili- 
tary bands. On either side of the 
avenue were the people who were gath- 
ered to see their President as he passed 
on his last farewell. From nine o'clock 
in the morning until two in the after- 
noon do they wait; but they look upon 
the black catafalque at last as it slowly 
moves along. Multitudes of citizens 
join the procession and escort the dead 
to the Capitol. 

The whole nation seemed draped in 
black; one city is as another. Every- 
where the flags on the government 
buildings are at half-mast, and the 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

numerous symbols of sorrow are wide- 
spread as the continent. At the hour 
of service the churches in every city, 
from ocean to ocean, are crowded with 
mourners. This seemed to be the 
funeral not of one man, but of a nation. 
This j)eople who, for almost a hundred 
years, had boasted of being the most 
independent, as they had tried to be 
the best of the earth, now seemed with- 
out a leader. The cities stood still ; the 
States moved not; and the nation was 
silent save for the innumerable voices 
in the undertones of woe. The flags 
of Europe and Asia and the isles of the 
seas drooped in the j)resence of such 
unexpected grief. 

And yet it was not the assassination 
of Lincoln alone that caused all this 
unheard-of emotion. His death was 
but the culmination of a four years' 
long tragedy, which directly involved, 
as actors on the stage, nearly three mil- 

49 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

lion, five hundred thousand American 
soldiers. Of these, more than two mil- 
lion were from the loyal States ; and the 
remainder were from the South, which 
drove into its ranks, either as enlisted 
men, or as home guards, in that vast 
military camp, every able-bodied male, 
from the boy of fourteen and younger, 
to the snowy-haired grandfather who 
counted his age at three-score and ten. 
Of those in the Northern army act- 
ually engaged in warfare, one out 
of every five lay under the sod when 
peace was declared. There were in 
our land nearly four hundred thou- 
sand new-made graves in which were 
lying in unbroken slumber the heroes 
of as many Northern homes. If the 
proportion of deaths in the Confed- 
erate army were allowed to be a lit- 
tle less, still there were not fewer than 
two hundred and fifty thousand 
chairs forever vacant in the lovely 
50 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

land of Dixie. Granting six feet 
to a grave, and placing the dead, 
head and foot together, in one long 
trench, that trench, beginning at 
Washington, would cross the Poto- 
mac River, the northern point of 
Virginia, go over the mountains and 
into the valleys across West Virginia, 
through the southern point of Ohio, 
over the northern crest of Kentucky, 
across the entire State of Indiana, into 
Illinois, through that commonwealth, 
and would terminate on the banks of 
the Mississippi River, a little north of 
St. Louis. This is the size of the grave 
which would hold the men who died in 
the rebellion from 1861 to 1865. Could 
this trench with its ghastly contents be 
transferred to Europe, it would reach 
from the city of Brest, on the northwest 
coast of France, diagonally the longest 
way across that republic, to the south- 
east, through the city of Nice, out into 

SI 



MOURNING FOE LINCOLN 

the Mediterranean Sea, and would ter- 
minate midway between the continent 
and the Island of Corsica; and the 
fathers and mothers of all these sons 

' were ruthlessly summoned, by the act 
of Booth, to the funeral- feste. 

In 1861 there were in the United 
States of America thirty-six States. 
These States are divided into counties, 
of which there are about one thousand, 
four hundred and thirty-two; these are 
again subdivided into smaller tracts, or 
townships. Allowing twenty of these 
smaller divisions for each county, there 
are twenty-eight thousand, six hundred 
and forty townships in the thirty-six 
States. Of this number, there were 
thousands of townships in the frontiers 

, which were entirely without human 
inhabitants, while other thousands had 
but few. When the dead soldiers are 
distributed equally among the town- 
ships, for burial, there are twenty-one 
52 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

graves to each, or an average in each 
of five funerals a year for the four 
years of the war. There was not a city 
nor a village, nor a community of any 
sort, nor yet a family, nor scarcely a 
single individual, that was not in recent 
sorrow for some dead soldier. Nor did 
the suffering stop at this ; for almost as 
large as the count of the dead was the 
number of maimed and diseased men 
who returned from the battle-fields to 
their homes, only to drag out a life-long 
misery. They were a living index of 
the horrors of war; they w^re constant 
and forceful reminders of the death- 
head at life's feast. Their stories were 
of suffering and pain, and of long 
marches and sudden and successful 
onslaught of the enemy; these they 
retold until a solemn, heroic, sorrow 
became the daily food upon which the 
nation fed. 

Still another cause there was for 

53 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

mourning. Although the war was sup- 
posed to be over, dangers were yet 
pending. A million men were now 
away in the Federal army, and a million 
firesides were in deep solicitude; for no 
wife or mother knew at what moment 
might fly to her the words: "Husband 
dead; son shot through the heart; will 
send body at earliest possible date." So 
it was that the smiting of Lincoln made 
every home feel more insecure, and filled 
it with deeper loneliness and fear of the 
future. This feeling intensified, and 
anxiety multiplied, until human nature 
could no longer endure the strain. The 
whole nation collapsed; saturated itself 
in tears; covered itself over with sack- 
cloth, and beheld Lincoln as he passed 
them by in his chariot of an endless 
peace. 

Conspicuous among the mourners, 
especially in the East and in the South, 

54 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

were the negroes. During four years 
tliey had been drifting into Washington 
and Baltimore by hundreds and thou- 
sands. They looked on the President 
as next, if not equal, to the Savior. It 
is said that an army colonel, happening 
to be in a colored meeting in North 
Carolina, heard some of them talk of 
Mr. Lincoln and tell their impressions 
of him. An old white-haired negro 
arose to reprove and instruct the 
assembly. "Brederin," he said, "bred- 
erin, you don't know nossen' what you'se 
talkin' 'bout. Now you jus' listen to 
me. ]Massa Linkum, he eberywhar; he 
know eberyting; he walk de earf like 
de Lord." The benighted people 
thought Lincoln could feed them and 
clothe them and care for them all their 
lives. When the Freedmen's Aid was 
organized and took them in hand, nat- 
urally enough, the emancipated negroes 
thought INIr. Lincoln was the author of 
55 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

all their comforts. When the time came 
that their friend was carried from them 
to the tomb, their mourning passed all 
bomids; it was as deep as their deeply 
emotional natures. Their black features 
were distorted and made more homely; 
they groaned and cried aloud, and 
wailed above the wailing of the other 
multitudes: "Uncle Sam is dead; Uncle 
Sam is dead! Oh, Lo'd! Oh, Lo'd! Oh, 
Lo'd!" When questioned as to whom 
they meant, they responded in groans: 
"Mr. Linkum is dead, de man who 
signed 'Mancipation Proclimation is 
dead! De good man to poo-ah niggah 
is dead, an' we'll haf to go down to de 
old plantation as slaves agen! Oh, 
good Lo'd, hab mercy; Oh, good Lo'd, 
gib us help! Mr. Linkum is dead, the 
niggah's f ren' is dead !" The moaning 
of some of the negroes in the far South 
was even yet more melancholy. They 
were still under the heel of the master, 
56 



3I0URXIXG FOR LINCOLN 

and they felt that with the death of the 
President all hope was gone. There 
were four millions of the black race in 
densest ignorance, but ignorance did 
not lighten their burden; in their 
despair many of them rocked them- 
selves back and forth, calling all the 
time: "Oh, Lo'd, hab mercy! Oh, good 
Lo'd, hab mercy 1" 

The train of eight coaches, six for 
the mourners, one for the guard of 
honor, and one — the funeral car — 
draped within and without, sped at last 
on its way from Washington to Balti- 
more, its first stopping-place. That 
city which, four years earlier, had har- 
bored within its bosom a band of mis- 
creants having as their object the 
murder of Abraham Lincoln before he 
could be inaugurated, has learned the 
value of the man, and now receives him 

57 



MOUENING FOE LINCOLN 

in solemn reverence between its columns 
of countless citizens. 

At Philadelphia the President's body 
was taken to Independence Hall. In 
front of this historic building, on a spot 
now designated by a well-known tablet, 
four years before, at a flag-raising, INIr. 
Lincoln had declared concerning the 
principle of the Declaration of Inde- 
pendence: "I was about to say^ I would 
rather be assassinated upon this spot 
than surrender it." Within that hal- 
lowed edifice he now lies, while for him 
who dared to die, the walls were heavily 
hung with crape. The head of the 
coffin was placed near the old Inde- 
pendence Bell. That bell, broken now, 
was honored as never before ; there were 
floral festoons and garlands. One of 
the wreaths lying at the head of the 
casket contained a card bearing the 
inscription: "Before any great national 
event I always have the same dream. 
58 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

I had it the other night. It was of a 
ship saihng rapidly." Aye, Lincohi's 
dream, Longfellow's Ship of State! 

The old Liberty Bell was heavily 
draped, as though it, too, were dead. 
What fitting and sympathetic com- 
panions, this bell and this departing 
spirit ! Thus might they have held con- 
verse : 

The Bell: "I rang the Union into 
existence." 

The Spirit: "I maintained the 
Union." 

The Bell: "I proclaimed liberty 
throughout all the land, to all the inhab- 
itants thereof." 

The Spirit: "I gave liberty through- 
out all the land, to all the people 
thereof." 

The Bell: "I am useless now; I am 
broken." 

The Spirit: "Having finished my 
work, my body is going to its burial." 

59 



MOURNING FOE LINCOLN 

The Bell: "The people remember 
me and greatly love me." 

The Spirit: "Oh, my God, wilt Thou 
help them to remember me and love me 
a little 1" 

Love him a little! Love him a lit- 
tle! Aye, they loved him so greatly 
that the States, during long days, 
remembered ; they stood clad in mourn- 
ing, and chanted funeral dirges. For 
this love the public obsequies began, not 
on the day appointed, but on the pre- 
ceding Saturday, and continued on 
Sunday, and Monday, and Tuesday, 
and Wednesday, and Thursday, and 
Friday, and Saturday, and again 
through another week, and on into a 
third week, until Thursday, May the 
4th. 

It was not the States and cities alone 

which gave public demonstration of 

their grief; the army was scattered 

from New York to Texas. Some 

60 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

parts of the army heard of the calamity 
on the day following the fatal shot; 
some heard of it in a week ; some heard 
of it at the close of the twenty days' 
public parade. These soldier boys 
knew the President intimately, though 
they had never looked upon his face, 
yet they knew him. He was their 
Commander-in-Chief, and not a man of 
them could be persuaded that JNIr. Lin- 
coln was a stranger. They told his 
stories while on the march; when they 
were suiFering in prison, they talked of 
his goodness; they sang his praises as 
they went into battle; they enlisted in 
his army, shouting: "We're coming, 
Father Abraham, six hundred thousand 
strong!" Now, as the news of that 
awful crime reaches the different 
corps, there are at first anger and curs- 
ings, and then deepest sorrow. "They 
have killed our best friend; they have 
killed their best friend!" moaned the 
6x 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

soldiers. A million voices from as 
many enlisted men rose and fell with 
the cadence of the funeral march. Here 
was a line of mourners four thousand 
miles long. They march into camp to 
muffled drum; they bivouac for the 
night, dreaming of Lincoln as they 
sleep. Five thousand clergymen were 
in one way and another connected with 
the army, and many of these deliver 
funeral orations for the illustrious dead. 
The incubus of woe could not be shaken 
from this mighty mass of mourning 
men. Their chorus of grief was a deep 
bass, modulated to the deeper unspoken 
passion of love for their great com- 
mander. 

As the eight funeral coaches 
approached the JNIetropolis, the public 
uprising became more marked. This 
city, which, two years before, had to 
cope with a mob having as its object 
the cessation of the draft, arose now 
62 



:mouiinixg for Lincoln 

with its myriads and filled its streets with 
mourners. A few days before, as word 
arrived that Lee had surrendered, this 
throng sj)ontaneously burst forth sing- 
ing: "Praise God from whom all 
blessings flow ; Praise Him all creatures 
here below." But now the grand dox- 
ology has altogether ceased. The har- 
bor was decked with flags at half-mast; 
batteries fired their minute-guns; the 
society of affluence and culture, which 
was wont to ridicule the President for 
his uncouth ways, stands awed into rev- 
erence and love before this man on his 
triumphal tour to the tomb. 

Mr. Arnold, in his Life of Lincoln, 
tells of a remarkable scene which was 
enacted w^hile the funeral train moved 
slowly up the Hudson: "In one of the 
towTis near the Highlands, a tableau of 
touching beauty had been arranged. 
Just as the sun was sinking behind the 
CatskiUs, the train slowly approached 
63 



MOURNING FOE LINCOLN 

the place, and the mourners upon the 
train saw that thousands of the country 
people had gathered around an open 
space, near the bank of the river. This 
space was carpeted and draped with 
flags; slow, sad, pathetic music accom- 
panied the approach of the train, and a 
beautiful lady, representing the God- 
dess of Liberty, knelt over the grave of 
Lincoln, holding a drooping flag draped 
in mourning." 

Such was the devotion of people who 
knew that they could see no more than 
the passing of the great President. 
The railroads over which he was carried 
were lined with delegates from sur- 
rounding towns. Families were present 
from places five, fifteen, fifty miles 
away; they came just to look on a car. 
Children in the mother's arms were held 
with their faces towards the train, and 
told, as if it were possible not to forget : 
"Baby, look there! President Lincoln 
64 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

is in that coach; he was shot the other 
night ; look now, for he will never again 
come this way!" Then the mother 
would bury her face in the folds of a 
black veil and sob aloud. Families so 
standing and waiting became friends 
while they stood; for had not each a 
boy in the army or the grave? So they 
talked of Tom and Joe and Harry, and 
of the storm which was sweeping the 
continent. 

At every station where the train 
stopped were floral gifts from women. 
JNIany were beautiful w^reaths to which 
were attached cards reading: "A lady's 
gift; can you find a place?" An old 
negro woman with a rudely-made 
T^Tcath in her hand, crowded herself 
into the presence of a decorating com- 
mittee, and with tears in her eyes 
begged that it might be placed on the 
coffin. The wreath bore the motto: 
"The nation mourns his loss. He still 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

lives in the hearts of the people." Her 
offering was accepted. Three women 
entered Independence Hall at mid- 
night bearing a cross of milk-white 
flowers to which was attached a card 
bearing the inscription: "A tribute to 
our great and good President, who has 
fallen a martyr to the cause of human 
freedom. 

'In my hand no price I bring; 
Simply to Thy cross I cling.' " 
And these floral off'erings came from 
those who mourned greatest, the women. 
The man enters the swiftly-flowing 
stream of business and is carried along 
in its current, the woman tarries behind, 
alone; the man enters the army to fight 
gloriously for his country, the woman 
remains at home; the man rushes on to 
battle and is slain, the woman walks 
henceforth companionless ; with Lin- 
coln, four hundred thousand men of 
the North forgot in the tomb all pain 
66 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

and sorrow, but with jNIrs. Lincoln, 
four hundred thousand women dropped 
amaranths and tears on the graves of 
the men whom they loved, and were 
comfortless. 

Behind this American movement of 
twenty days' mourning for the illus- 
trious, like the background of a picture, 
or the apex of a pyramid in a painting, 
or a mountain-range pouring its flood 
into already inundated valleys, were 
lifted above the vast expanse of the 
Atlantic Ocean the heads of European 
sympathizers. For months, and almost 
for years, during the Civil War, the 
textile mills of Great Britain were 
closed, the artisans thrown out of a 
livelihood, and laborers were without 
bread; the weaving enterprises of the 
empire turned not a wheel, and fortunes 
were sunk in unproductive plants. The 
cause of this stagnation in business was 
67 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

said by the British manufacturer to 
be Mr. Lincoln. Cotton was grown in 
the Southern States, and Lincoln had 
blockaded every port from Hampton 
Roads to Galveston, and no cotton 
could be shipped to the trans- Atlantic 
consumer. Hence, there arose a mighty 
outcry against the President. The 
demand was loud that he speedily hft 
the blockade or end the war. He was 
despised as an agent who was ruining 
commerce, as well as defrauding the 
textile worker of his hire. But, be it 
said to the Briton's credit, he loved 
liberty ; he had freed his own slaves, and 
acknowledged their rights under the 
British Constitution. At last, Lincoln 
performed an act which won for him 
the admiration and love of the Briton. 
One day, the newspapers of London 
announced that the President of the 
United States had signed a notable 
document, the Emancipation Proclama- 

68 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

tion. By this act, tlie President had 
proven himself, in British eyes, worthy 
of the position which he held as a leader 
in the Anglo-Saxon race; and, yes, he 
had so won the respect of those who 
were formerly his enemies in England, 
but who were now his friends, that 
Queen Victoria, disregarding the habit- 
ual reserve imposed on her by the 
House of Lords, with her own hand 
penned words of consolation and con- 
dolence to Lincoln's stricken wife. 

At Paris, the city which loves inde- 
pendence for the individual, a conven- 
tion of Sunday-schools, four thousand 
in numbers, was assembled in a great 
tent. The chairman arose and said: 
"iSIy children, I prepared a little speech 
for you, but a horrible fact has just 
been related to me. The President of 
the United States is dead. Abraham 
Lincoln has been shot." He then sat 
down and could say no more. Several 

69 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

ladies could not restrain their weeping. 
An American gentleman whispered to 
one of them, asking her if she too was 
an American. "No," she replied, "I 
am French; but I have followed Mr. 
Lincoln's course from the beginning of 
the War, and now I feel that his death 
is a personal affliction." 

It was in Paris, too, that students 
marched en masse to the American 
Legation to express their sympathy. 
French Liberals started a two-cent sub- 
scription for the purchase of a massive 
gold medal. Their committee brought 
the gift to the American minister, who 
later was to send it to Mrs. Lincoln. 
They prayed him: "Tell her the heart 
of France is in that little box." The 
medal had this inscription: "Lincoln — 
the Honest ]\Ian — abolished Slavery, 
reestablished the Union, saved the 
Republic, without veiling the Statue of 
Liberty." 

70 



JNIOURNING i^OIl LINCOLN 

Garibaldi, whose battle-cry was, 
"Rome or death!" and who, with seven- 
teen thousand "Chasseurs of the 
Alps," began that movement which 
enabled him to crown Victor Emmanuel 
King of Italy, now hearing of the assas- 
sination exclaimed: "It is horrible! Half 
of my soul has been taken away from 
me I" 

And the States through which the 
funeral moved had all sent tlieir bravest 
and best sons to strengthen the hands 
of the President while he was alive. 
'New York had contributed twelve per 
cent of her population; Pennsylvania, 
twelve and six-tenths ; Ohio, thirteen per 
cent; Indiana, fourteen; Illinois, fif- 
teen, — all to Lincoln's cause. Over a 
distance of sixteen hundred and fifty 
miles, the train glided through avenues 
of mourners. They who stand, hour 
after hour, by the side of the railroads 

71 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

or in the streets of the great cities, as 
the cortege rolls along, realize more and 
more that the best beloved of the sons 
of men is among them for the last time. 
They are in the presence, not of a con- 
queror only, but of a man who believed 
in his brother-man ; they longingly gaze, 
not upon a warrior, though he was in 
war, but upon the face of a giver of 
peace. At the Crucifixion of that 
other, greater Emancipator, centuries 
before, few mourned, and millions 
jeered; at the death of this eman- 
cipator, the mourners were millions, 
the scoffers few; thus hath the 
spirit of brotherliness broadened and 
deepened. The army and the navy 
mourned; statesmen and politicians, 
churchmen and educators, societies 
and everybody mourned. History 
has left no other picture like this 
on the canvas of the world; a plain 
man from the common people, stand- 
72 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

ing, a figure of love, and wisdom, and 
patience, during four years of fratri- 
cidal war, sustains a Union, the object 
of which was and is liberty and equality 
to all, becomes so great that he fills 
the century. The whole world looks, 
and beholds — a ^MAN. 

And America has been so well- 
favored; there had been no assassina- 
tion of her chief executives — assassina- 
tions belonged to monarchies; there was 
no place for such crime where the 
people ruled ; regicide was a term appli- 
cable only in a land where kings were 
on the throne. A government of the 
people and for the people and by the 
people was God's own government. 
Providence had seemed to guard the 
republic and its chief executive. At 
first this was especially true of Mr. 
Lincoln ; for at Cincinnati, on the train 
which carried him eastward toward 
Washington, for his first inaugural, 

n 



MOURNING FOU LINCOLN 

hand grenades were found. Provi- 
dence had protected its own. In Phila- 
delphia, where on the following day he 
was to raise the stars and stripes over 
Independence Hall, a messenger arrives 
from Baltimore announcing that a plot 
to murder him as he passed through the 
latter city had been discovered. To 
avoid these dangers, he went in the 
night, unheralded and unknown, 
through Baltimore; he was unharmed. 
Again Providence had smiled. In 
Washington rum.ors flew thick and fast 
that Mr. Lincoln would never be 
inaugurated. Desperate parties, so 
says report, are to set upon him and 
slay him before he reaches the Capitol. 
At his inauguration, all the loyal troops, 
six hundred and fifty-three in number, 
that have been or can be secured for 
his protection, march in front and rear 
and on the flanks of the Presidential 
party, so that in peace he vows to protect 

74 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

the Union. Truly, Providence has now 
taken him by the hand. Later, attempts 
are made to poison him, but they fail. 
Providence enfolds him. It is rumored 
that enemies are prepared to kidnap 
him and hand him over to the Con- 
federates, or hold him for a ransom ; but 
all these treacherous schemers fail in 
their reckonings. Before enemies at 
home and abroad he does not flinch. 
Cartoonists, foreign and domestic, ridi- 
cule him as a man, as a statesman, as a 
leader. Providence strengthens him 
and gives him courage. Newspapers 
sting him relentlessly and ceaselessly; 
but he remains the man of Providence, 
plodding upward. Political opponents 
attempt to overthrow him when his task 
is only half finished, but Providence 
will not permit them. He becomes like 
the head of a comet raised to the nth 
power, sweeping in omnipotence 
through the combined oppositions of 

75 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

friend and foe. With the help of the 
Infinite, in which he claimed to trust, he 
passes triumphantly through the 
National Republican Nominating Con- 
vention, and through the national elec- 
tions. Underneath the Man of Provi- 
dence are the Everlasting Arms. There 
streams from behind this comet-head 
innumerable radiations which are con- 
vergent upon him and which are irre- 
sistibly drawn after him — voters, 
friends, entire families, uprisen socie- 
ties, hallowed sanctuaries, loyal States, 
the combined North in military proces- 
sion; there are offered prayers for his 
safety, petitions for his success, conse- 
crations of 3^outh for his cause, collec- 
tions of money for his hand, train-loads 
of provisions for his soldiers, acres of 
lint — hand-made — for his wounded, 
square miles of tents for his hospitals, 
thousands of physicians for his sick, 
and as many more thousands of nurses ; 



MOURNING FOll LINCOLN 

the earth is devoted upon the altar of 
this man. There is a flash of red 
sweeping across the sky; he was elected 
to declare war, and he has declared it; 
there is an appalling scene of grandeur ; 
armies are advancing for the encounter ; 
there is an overwhelming movement of 
fire — villages are burned, and entire 
valleys are wrapped in conflagrations. 
Unswervingly he leads the procession 
of stars; they feel his pull and answer 
to his call; they swing into right lines, 
and the sweep of the whole becomes 
graceful, beautiful, powerful, over- 
whelming. This man is God's man; 
God has not mistaken His man. This 
life a charmed life, which charms other 
lives; it is love, light, heat, motion, 
triumph. The Man of Providence was 
elected to declare war, and he declared 
it; reelected to proclaim peace, and he 
proclaimed it — all danger is now over. 
Lo, in an instant, everything is changed 



MOURNING FOE LINCOLN 

■ — there is no "pull," no light, no life; 
there is, — death. The Man of Provi- 
dence has ceased to be, the head of the 
comet is snuffed out, and the comet 
breaks into chaos. The disorganized 
multitudes look — instead of light, 
behold night; they seek a sphere which 
shall pull, and lo, a dismal void! For 
the first time in our history murder has 
smitten America's Chief Executive; 
Murder has said to Providence: 
"Begone; I will rule in your stead." 

The more you try to become recon- 
ciled to first calamities, the more con- 
fused and depressed you are — you do 
not and cannot understand them. 

At last, the dead President reaches 
his home State, Illinois — that great 
commonwealth which sent him, her first, 
in the line of our presidents. How 
she loved him! For a fortnight she 
had talked of nothing but his home- 
78 



- <mm9-9 ' 9 mvmHm 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

coming; she had worked two weeks for 
nothing else. The statehouse in Spring- 
field, where he lay two days in state, 
was draped from basement to cornice 
with heavy black velvet fringed with 
silver. He had received his nomination 
in Chicago, and the women of that city, 
to the number of ten thousand, had 
invited him to their fair; he had 
promised to come, and now he is present 
for two days. But what a home-com- 
ing I The proud State which had 
furnished vast armies for the President, 
and would gladly furnish others if only 
he would make the call, now throws 
open her bosom and plunges into it the 
dagger of woe. Railroads multijDlied 
their trains and emptied the entire coun- 
try into the city. There was no busi- 
ness, no rush, and no whirl — only closed 
doors and draped streets, and flags bor- 
dered with crape and festoonings and 

79 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

funeral wreaths — while all conversa- 
tion was in subdued tones. 

Early in the morning a woman goes 
to see the face of the dead President. 
That she may be home early, she starts 
at eight o'clock, and enters a street run- 
ning at right angles to the procession. 
The crowd is dense and she is pushed 
along, but her way is soon blocked by 
those in front. She attempts to retrace 
her steps, but finds the space behind her 
solidly packed with people bent on the 
same mission as herself; in an hour she 
advances a foot; there she stands till 
ten o'clock, till twelve, till four ; at last, 
after eight hours' waiting, she is pushed 
into the stagnant stream flowing 
towards the funeral car. What is the 
sight which meets her eyes ? The black 
funeral car; black horses with black 
trappings; postillions in black hats; 
coachmen with black ribbons tied to 
whips; black carriages with occupants 



3I0URNING FOK LINCOLN 

clad in black raiment, wheels whose 
spokes were entwined with black bunt- 
ing; j)rocessions with black badges, 
passing between densely packed throngs 
of people clad in black; black drapings 
over windows, black crape over doors, 
black festoonings swinging from tree 
to tree; entire bolts of black cloth 
stretched from store to store across the 
streets; arches trimmed in black, cano- 
pies of canvas hidden with black; flags 
at half-mast, bordered with black; 
regiments of soldiers home on furlough, 
or on duty, with caps off and black 
crape on arm; officers, who by military 
orders have black ribbons tied to 
swords; policemen with black gloves; 
women with black-bordered handker- 
chiefs; children around whose throats 
were tied black ribbons; black every- 
where, black everything; black! black I 
black! 

Nor was there any effort to dispel 
8i 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

the unprecedented gloom ; ever since the 
fatal shot of Booth it was exactly what 
the mourners longed for, prayed for, 
and labored for. It was as if an army 
of the living were gathered in an 
unbroken forest to bury an army of the 
dead ; or as if a nation were arrayed for 
sacrificial rites to the grim giant Death, 
in death's only garb, deep trailing black. 
For the nation had been deceived, sur- 
prised and violently shocked by the sud- 
den death of Lincoln. At Appomat- 
tox Courthouse, by stipulations signed 
by General Lee and delivered to Gen- 
eral Grant, war was at an end, and in 
the place of the Death Angel the Angel 
of Peace had arrived. Delirious joy 
seized alike both North and South ; both 
had seen enough of war and death. 
Intoxications of delight filled both 
civilian and soldier. When word of 
the surrender was announced to the 
Union army, the air was full of hats, 
82 



sie^: 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

and vociferous acclamations echoed and 
reechoed from fen and upland, from 
forest and rocky hill-top, and rippled 
along the distant valleys like merry lit- 
tle rivulets. No dash of spring-time 
shower followed by burst of brilliant 
sunbeams ever gladdened the bosoms of 
fields of new-born flowers into filling 
the earth with fragi;iance like the mes- 
sage of the Peace Angel filled the land 
with universal good-will towards every- 
one. A new era is arrived, and Lincoln 
will be its master-mind ; he is needed for 
his helpful and almost hallowed wit; 
needed as leader in the joy festival which 
has already begun ; needed in the recon- 
struction of the Union. Lincoln is the 
center of the arch between the North 
and the South; between the old and 
the new; between what was and what 
ought to be and what must be; and 
underneath the arch, with its magnifi- 
cent span, is — Death Valley. The 

83 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

center of the arch is dislodged and 
drops; on either side is a column 
crumbling and ready to fall. Man's 
arch-enemy, Death, has appeared again. 
It is no wonder that for twenty days 
the people mourn; no wonder that for 
more than two weeks they drape the 
city ; no wonder that they saturate them- 
selves in sombernei^s. The never-to-be- 
forgotten Good Friday of long ago, 
on which The Great Emancipator was 
assassinated, had three hours of dark- 
ness, but the estimation of emancipa- 
tors is growing. The Good Friday of 
Eighteen Hundred and Sixty-five 
opened into a sepulchral cavern through 
which for twenty days a countless host 
marched in ever-deepening gloom. They 
were in the Valley of the Shadow of 
Death; aye, in the Valley of Death 
itself. Stalwart, full-grown men were 
at the mercy of the midnight storm of 
Death sweeping and swinging and 
84 



Wftmmliamm nmauiaxflvt t n a wa * ti vmumi amammae^mii m ^ m i w ^ wi w i i w t^iriwwtn aiaaaftaBfiMaMMMii^iaat 



:mourxing for lixcolx 

whirling and howling in all its might 
throuij^h the valley. Death, with all his 
emissaries of foe and famine and pes- 
tilence and personal grudge and insane 
hate, seemed pillaging and beating and 
crushing, without resistance or hin- 
drance, and driving the bereaved into 
the valley. The very air which they 
breathed came from the nostrils of 
Death; it suffocated, and nauseated, 
and poisoned, and made them faint. 

For thirteen days the body of the 
best-loved President was carried with 
reverence as of angel-hands, from city 
to city of our heart-broken land. An 
epoch-maker is being borne to the tomb, 
and the bearers totter beneath the bur- 
den ; it is heavy, and they are w^eak, and, 
as if by contagion, the load is passed 
from bearer to mourner, and all are 
dragged into the dust. In storm and 
sunshine, at midday and midnight, the 

85 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

mourners are gathered. At last he 
rests in his own home, but there is no 
rest for his children; the burden which 
was his for four long, bitter years, and 
which he carried uncomplainingly, is 
theirs; now their father is with them, 
they will take one brief look at him, they 
will bid him welcome, and say farewell. 
And so the children come, some clad 
in broadcloth and some in rags; they 
come, the cultured and the ignorant; 
they come, some with face as fair as 
the angel and some hideous and hard 
in crime ; they come, old men palsied and 
tottering towards the grave, and babes 
borne in mothers' arms; they come, 
young men and beautiful maidens — 
marching, halting, stopping, starting 
again; crushing against one another, 
forward they move — one glimpse at the 
Great Man, and they are pushed aside 
by the thousands and tens of thousands 
coming behind, and still other thousands 
86 



M O U R X I X G FOE LINCOLN 

behind these. What a demonstration! 
What a scene of sorrow! What an 
exhibition of love! This was the great 
day of mourning since the world began; 
no other page of history has so much 
black ink upon it, nor is there another 
sodden with so many tears ; no other day 
has its walls so heavily draped, nor its 
chambers so silent and sad. In Illinois 
a legend declares that the brown wood- 
thrush, which pipes loudest when the 
storm laughs most, refused to sing for 
an entire year. 

Finally, the cliildren bear their father 
to Oak Ridge Cemetery, just outside 
of Springfield. It was a cold bed they 
made for him, but it was the best that 
they could give. There rest the mortal 
remains of Abraham Lincoln, the 
emancipator of a race, America's chief 
mart}T. Without shedding of blood 
there is no remission of sin, and the 
. 87 



^MOURNING FOE LINCOLN 

blood shed for such a purpose is always 
that of the innocent. 

An artist lays in his colors, angles 
and forms, and changes them as his 
fancy wills ; but when he comes to pure 
white light he has reached his limit — 
the glory of the sun has never been 
improved upon. And the moving lights 
and shadows and gro^^dng gloom of the 
mourning days of 1865 were the somber 
settings behind which God the Artist 
was to paint, with one last illuminating 
stroke — a struggling soul in triumph. 

There is an averment that on the day 
the President died a star stood above 
the city of Washington, so marked was 
it in brilliancy that many comments 
were made concerning its appearance. 

When Abraham Lincoln breathed his 
last. Secretary Stanton broke the sil- 
ence by saying: "Now he belongs to the 
ages." 



l^t l^Uinga t0 tl|? Agfa* 

The Ag-es are the workshop of the Infinite, 
Where he robes the night and streams the 

light 
And turns his lathe and makes the spheres; 
And builds the days into gliding- years. 

Out of the Ages great men come: 
Out of the heat where the day's begun : 
Out of the soot and sparks of night; 
Out of the whirl of engendering right 
They train along with a rumbling might. 

Out from the Ages they are sent, 
And as they move they make huge rent 
Across the earth and all its pages: 
They shift in scenes upon earth's stages, 
The raging wars, the waving palms. 
The pulsing storms, the glowing calms. 

Nor do we know them as they are, 

For underneath ua now they jar 

With avalanchine tread the earth, 

And set our fears a-trembling 

Like fallen leaves assembling 

Before the North-wind hurrj-ing 

When Boreas bounds from out his berth. 



• Copyright 1903, by Frank w. z. Barrett 
89 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

Here he comes from out the Ages, 
Wielding- armies as work-men sledges; 
And with them lays he level and low, 
On left, on right, in front and rear, 
The modes of men, their vices sere. 

Behold, while he doth rock creation! 
Behold, while he remolds the nation, 
And breathes into it hopes of sages! 
Behold him passing to the Ages, 
While from the grimly grip of carnage. 
He doth wrest and hold against it, Life 
While he doth say, "Be still!" to strife. 

Into the Ages the great man goes 

Like a column of crystal 

In the City Celestial: 

Like a capital carved 

By some Phidian chisel 

Into lily and lilac and rose. 

His life, all-apparent, 

Like the column transparent, 

Like the lily in whiteness, 

Like the lilac in sweetness and brightness, 

Like the rose in its love-laden story, 

Sustains through the ages God's glory. 

Up through the portals of the Great Unknown 
A voice greets the just, "My own! My own!" 
So he bides with the great where the great 

take their place: 
And his empire is endless as is unfolding 

space. 

90 



MOURNING FOR LINCOLN 

On his head doth the Infinite encircle a crown 
As Time on his forehead hath 'graven renown: 
"Faithful and True" is the name which he 

bears, 
And dominion's bestowed by the crown 

•which he wears. 

THE AGES BELONG TO HIM NOW. 



91 



(viAY U 1909 







011 899 9265# 



